


The Panther Goddess

by parakeetlee



Series: Avatar of the Panther Goddess [1]
Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Not Really Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 09:48:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13831620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parakeetlee/pseuds/parakeetlee
Summary: "I'm sorry, King T'challa, but I appear, as before, to be caught up in another fine mess involving your country. And your goddess, apparently, who's quite chatty when she wants to be. Or when a dying white man lands in your ancestral plane."





	The Panther Goddess

He's not going to make it. He took too long to get that last cargo ship and the lab's shield was failing NOW. Everett Ross ran towards the exit ramp as fast as he could, but the explosion of the lab lifted him off his feet and flung him over a table and into a wall. Ross's ability to breathe vanished and his vision tunneled to black.

***

"Ah..." Everett tried to groan but the pain was too great. It felt like his body was being roasted or electrocuted. Maybe both. He curled up as best as he could and prayed for it to stop.

"It's your own fault. This is Wakanda's ancestral plane and you will not find solace in death here. How dare a white man come to Wakanda? You are dying because of the vibranium in your blood, vibranium you obviously stole." A bitter female voice spat out. It took him almost 30 seconds for the sounds to make sense into words and even the agony he was in couldn't stop him from protesting the accusation.

"I never... chose... to come here." Everett panted out. There was a great pause and a weird rumble.

"That, colonizer, was the truth." The voice sounded surprised. Suddenly the pain vanished. Everett started gasping in relief, trying to find his control after the agony ceased. "How does a white man come to be dying in my country with our greatest secret in his blood... on accident?"

"King T'challa brought me here after I was injured to save my life. As for the vibranium, I suppose I was just inside the lab surrounded by Shuri's toys when I was blown up. After defending the king's orders." Everett rested his head on his arms but didn't look up. His surroundings felt like open air and an infrequent breeze brought the smells of blooming flowers and growing grass to his nose. It didn't add up with his last location and he realized that the voice had mentioned him dying... God, was he dead?

"Not quite yet, white man. It appears I have not been keeping a close eye on my lands. If not for the three king trials in less than a week and two to the same man, I would still be asleep, content in our lands' safekeeping." A furry hand... paw brought his gaze up into the slit eyes of a large black panther. "Show me how this came to be, foreigner."

***

"Something is wrong back there!" Nakia's voice snapped out as she came running in to the room. Everett was like a bystander in his own body, watching regretfully as the back wall exploded and the men came to seize Klaue. He willed himself to move faster, but the memory played out exactly the same. This time, however, he was all too aware as the bullet entered his back severing his spinal cord, an injury no normal doctor could repair. There was no buffer of trauma to block his memory of the dreadful numbness that radiated from his back. It was one thing to know your life was saved, but another to be laying there remembering just how close he came to either paralysis or death. His breaths stuttered as he stared into the floor while the Wakandans argued over his life. He heard T'challa order him stabilized with the Kimoyo beads and then there was a sudden silence.

"And so you spoke the truth but not all of it. You saved the life of the likely Queen at great cost to your own. And my child offered you healing without prompting from you or your kind." The voice... panther sounded intrigued. "I believe we have a lot to discuss, Everett Ross."

***

And so he talked. They returned to the savannah that he first arrived in and he recounted his side of the long and convoluted path to how he was in that lab, surrounded by vibranium as he was dying. The massive panther, he assumed was Bast, laid down on a convenient rock right beside him, just above eye level where he sat cross-legged. He remembered the briefing packet that was offered on Wakanda which did include its religion of choice. Seeing as the agrarian land was secretly a badass technological haven with spies in place in every nation in the world, he figured that they had missed a few critical details. Like the fact their deity had six inch long claws and liked to clean them pointedly while waiting to be briefed by hapless bystanders who really just wanted to help the people who saved his life and keep the world from ending in a bloodbath. Finally his mouth ran dry and he couldn't think of anything else to add, memory or suspicion of what was really going on throughout the last week. He gulped and stared at the goddess, afraid of her answer. "And then I woke up here. Please, am I dead?"

"As I said before, not quite yet, Ross." The feline goddess stood and stretched before jumping gracefully down to stand in front of him. Even sitting up straight left him eye level with her jaw and her massive teeth. "Too long have I been absent from the my lands and people. It seems that the physical world is changing too fast for me to keep up with from the spiritual plane. And so, Everett Ross, I would propose a deal."

"As I don't have anything else to do currently, I suppose I can hear you out." Everett pointed out dryly. The feline chuffed in amusement.

"I am in need of an anchor to the physical plane, a representative, an avatar if you will. Time here moves in strange ways and not always concurrently with the physical plane. The last Shaman of the Tribes, Zuri, was killed by this American boy prince so I do not even have a trained voice anymore. And you, well you currently need a life. Literally and perhaps figuratively as well. I doubt your people will tolerate your presence even if you were to survive unscathed as you have gone apparently... native. Here in the heart of my lands, my word is law. The only being I acknowledge is the rightful king of Wakanda. I could and would restore you to life, however changed by the vibranium in your bloodstream. In return, you will serve as my anchor to the physical plane and my voice among the tribes. I would counsel my child as he goes forth into these new times." The feline smiled a rather terrifying grin. Everett could only stare in amazement.

"Let me get this straight. I live, apparently changed, and you hitch a ride inside me to the physical plane? And how exactly would I be your voice?" Everett asked warily.

"If I were to need to speak, I would use your voice to convey my will." The panth-Bast explained, but Everett was already shaking his head.

"If I must sacrifice my ability to control myself, this will never work. I'd rather let myself die than be used like a puppet in a play. I assume that I must be willing or I'd never have woken up at all, you would have just taken my body and left my brain here. Find some other way." He insisted. The goddess seemed to smirk.

"Ah, the colonizer, has spirit after all. I'm glad I came when my children told me of the strange white one who arrived in the ancestral plane with no ancestors to meet him. Very well, Ross, I will promise to never seize control of your body without permission unless you are in mortal peril and unable to act yourself. In return, you must swear to never speak falsely when I have told you my words." Bast nodded gravely and almost seemed... approving? Everett thought the counterproposal over carefully. The caveats made sense in a vaguely alarming way, what if he was unconscious and in danger? He honestly didn't want to die, even as he'd used his own death as a threat. And the truth of the matter lie in the details. He was changed. He had vibranium in his bloodstream which could do all sorts of things like make kings into superheroes and heal mostly dead or paralysed people in less than a day. Despite his enforcement of the Accords as he was ordered to do, he'd heard the rumors. They wouldn't stop with a simple piece of paper to sign. There would be a list, a registry, and he now qualified through no fault of his own. If he returned to America as an American, he'd be detained, tested, and probably even experimented on. As much as he hated how Captain America of all people could spit in the law's face, the mirror view he ws now looking at cast a harsh light on the truth of the situation. He could never go home. Luckily, the CIA wasn't a fan of attachments in their agents, he was an only child to parents who died over ten years ago and keeping a girlfriend while country hopping, chasing bad men and good alike, was unrealistic. There were no loose ends to tie up. Depressingly, he wasn't even sure anyone except the agency would notice his disappearance. Bast shifted slightly, tilting her head. "Do we have an agreement?"

"We do. I live and, in exchange, you become my shadow. A cat-shaped one." Everett nodded slowly. Bast grinned fully, displaying her teeth. She leaned forward and down slightly, close enough for him to smell her last meal on her breath. Her eyes seemed to glow with a godly light and he closed his eyes. Her nose touched the center of his forehead and he shivered as a chill swept through him. The spot where he was shot a few days earlier began to ache as the cold began to edge into a vague pain on his back. He gritted his teeth and kept his eyes clenched shut.

"Oh good, Ross, I was hoping you'd say yes. I think we're going to have a lot of fun with this." Bast's voice got deeper and godlier until it felt like his eardrums were about to burst with the pressure and vibration. _This is the perfect time to send along a nice gift for the people. Ross, I think it's time for you to WAKE UP!_

***

Everett Ross sat up hard, Bast's command echoing in his brain, and started to cough helplessly. Sand. Sand was everywhere, in his throat and hair, coating his face and hands. His legs were still buried. His chest heaved as he hacked up what felt like most of a desert. Had he been buried alive? His heart started to race and he frantically shook the sand off his hands so he could wipe it out of his eyes. The room was dark, torch lit, and stank of smoke and burnt plant matter. Sudden movement made his eyes dart to the left slightly. A robe covered woman dropped her basket and scurried out one of the doors. Everett threw himself out of the shallow grave and lurched onto the rock surrounding the sand pit. He felt like he'd gone ten rounds with the Hulk. He drug himself forward, only to stop when he reached the edge. There was a soot covering the earth, and ash heaps every so often. He remembered Nakia's horror as she told the Queen Mother of Killmonger's order to burn the herb garden that gave the Wakandan kings their powers. Somehow, Bast knew how, he had woken in the heart of the city in their most sacred area. He reached out to touch the closest ash pile, wishing America had never trained Erik Stevens to be such a damned good destroyer. As soon as his hand brushed the soot, however, there was a jarring gold flash and his remaining strength began to wane quickly. He watched as all around the dais the gardens began to shake and shiver and tiny green and purple shoots began to push themselves up through the surface. His arms began to shake as he grew weaker and he finally collapsed to the stone as the weakness continued. With one hand stuck in the dirt, and the rest of his body weakening quickly, his vision began to waver. His last sight was a wide-eyed T'challa who sprinted in and skidded to his knees beside him.

***

The soft sounds of people murmuring and med lab monitors woke him this time. He was getting really tired of waking up in different places with no warning. He shifted as slowly as he could, trying to ascertain just how bad it had been. A sudden cough had him tensing briefly before relaxing and opening his eyes. He turned his head slightly to look at the king properly. The younger man smiled broadly. A subtle press of a few buttons had the magic (science!) bed elevating him to a reclined seating position.

"You, my friend, were dead." T'challa pointed out. Everett couldn't help the wince at that statement and had to chuckle.

"I have it on good authority that I was "not quite" dead, Your Majesty." Everett had to admit. The king nodded thoughtfully.

"Apparently you respond to death about as well as I do. Truthfully we feared the worst when the lab exploded, but despite our best efforts, we could not find your body. Not until you popped out of the ceremonial sands in the Garden of the Heart-shaped Herb. A garden that the keepers swear was all but ash until the last of their number came flying into my throne room gasping about the naked white man who came bursting out of the sand. Imagine my surprise when I run to investigate and find our missing friend and a freshly blooming garden of our most sacred plant. I assume there's quite a story behind this, as well as the rather peculiar tattoo that you now bear upon your back." The king fiddled with his Kimoyo beads and a hologram appeared. It looked like his own back, but in the center, there was a giant panther's head gazing back at him. Everett gaped as the panther seemed to wink at him.

"What the hell? That wasn't part of the deal!" He protested. An amused chuff sounded in the back of his brain. _You_ _gave me a freaking tattoo??_

 _Ah, Ross, I needed some way of proving you to be sent by me._ Bast's voice responded dryly. _Really, if anyone should_ _be miffed it's me... I had not remembered how limiting this plane could be to my presence. It's like being stuck in four dimensions instead of fifteen. How do you humans do this?_

 _I suppose it helps we're only aware of the four anyway, fifteen would be a bit much for us to handle, Bast._ Everett responded silently. He licked his dry lips pointedly and the king chuckled. He moved to the side table and poured a glass of water. Everett took it gratefully and sipped slowly. "I'm sorry, King T'challa, but I appear, as before, to be caught up in another fine mess involving your country. And your goddess, apparently, who's quite chatty when she wants to be. Or when a dying white man lands in your ancestral plane."

"Bast sent you back?" The king sat heavily back in his seat, staring at Everett in amazement. Everett shrugged.

"Sent me and tagged along for the ride. She used me to revive the gardens I assume for the same reason that Stevens burned them. A visual show of insuring that your way of life is safe and protected. Having the garden insures the line of succession beyond your own lifespan. Also, really good press." Everett explained flippantly. At the king's continuing stare he went on to explain the entire surreal experience in limbo or the ancestral plane or whatever you thought to call the place where gods roamed freely. "And so I popped up in your most sacred place so Bast could fix your plants. I'm sure the naked thing was for her own amusement. She has a peculiar sense of humor but I suppose most felines do, whether they're house cats or giant panthers."

"Remarkable.If I had not seen the same place upon my visit with my ancestors, I would be hard-pressed to believe you. Yet, here you are, after vanishing without a trace for a week. My family and I were trying to figure out how to explain your death/disappearance with no body to show for it." King T'challa said as he stood and began to pace, very similarly to his superhero namesake. Everett again caught the devil in the details.

"A week?? I was barely there a few hours!" He protested.

 _And the king trial lasts only seconds in the physical realm, but whole conversations can be had on the ancestral plane. Like I said, time moves differently there. It's the main reason I needed to "hitch a ride" with you._ Bast replied.

"Another one of the ancestral plane's oddities I presume. Rest assured, we prevailed in the end, due in no small part to your excellent flying. I am king once more." T'challa finally stopped moving and stood at the end of the bed. Everett sighed in relief. He had assumed as much seeing as they were both not dead again but it was comforting to know they'd beaten that psycopath.

"So I imagine Stevens is dead, then? Those type of black ops people aren't known for surrendering to imprisonment." Everett asked. Here the king's face deepened in a resigned sort of sorrow.

"He is, Agent Ross. And though it may seem confusing to an outsider, it is mixed feelings I bear. Relief for the end of his kingship and the destruction he would have born on the world. And yet sorrow, not for Erik Stevens, but for N'Jadaba, son of N'Jobu, my cousin, who, as misguided as he was, was still my family. My father and Zuri created the monster we saw, but I mourn the young boy left without a father and abandoned by his people who should have sheltered him. What difference it could have made to bring the boy back here among his people. I offered him his life and would have gladly had him restored to health if only to stand trial in front of the people for Zuri's death. But as you say, it was beyond his nature and he chose to die. We have respected his last wishes and returned him to the ocean's embrace." T'challa admitted.

"I fear you are a better man than I, Your Majesty. But then there's a reason you are king. And I feel I must trespass on your goodwill even more. I'll have to send in my letter of resignation remotely. I find those same Accords I mentioned you breaking left and right now apply to me and my passenger. I don't want to know what type of experiments the scientists at the Raft will want to try with my unique circumstances. I need sanctuary. You can call me Everett; I can't be an agent anymore." He announced with a small pang of regret at his entire life changing so drastically.

"You need not even ask, Everett. Your safety is guaranteed while within my country's borders. I would be a poor kidnapper indeed if you were to be injured after helping us." T'challa grinned lightly.

"That saved my life twice over, you know. The bullet in the spine and then Bast was not impressed with a white man in her ancestral lands. If I hadn't been able to say it wasn't my idea to come here but yours, I think she'd have gladly left me there to rot. You, she adores, by the way." Everett had to point out.

"Speaking of Bast, I need to go speak to my councilors about your situation. Feel free to rest here, dying can be quite exhausting I've found. May I have permission to use the footage from the lab so that your story can be heard without my biases?" The king asked. Everett nodded.

"Go ahead. I'm sure you'll have a devil of a time as it is, what with the possession via ancient Goddess thing going on. Let me know when I need to be ready to stand before them. I know my former superiors would have had countless questions and doubts." Everett offered freely. Bast rumbled a bit at the ancient crack, but ultimately allowed it to pass unchallenged. The king agreed and left to give some overdue explanations. _You're quiet. Should I be worried or relieved?_

 _Both, white man. It is merely adjustment to the change of planes, mostly. That and consideration of what our future holds. As I said, my main reason behind the joining was keeping track of the quick changes my country faces. But it is not my sole reason. The gods exist in separate planes of existence from mortals and must follow rules of engagement, as you suspected when you countered my proposal. In my home plane, I could not warn you of what danger looms on the horizon. So I found myself a loophole: you. In parallel universes, you survived the explosion unscathed or perished instantly. In ours, however, I managed to act in such a way as to catch you before you traveled the Path of the Dead. And thus, I can give my people a better chance at surviving._ Bast's voice lacked the harsh tone of insult, the nickname a mere teasing poke at his origin. Then, she told him of Thanos and all thoughts of levity vanished.

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't resist playing with the clueless agent and the mythology of the panther goddess. Could be a series, we'll see if I can get some of these ideas onto "paper".


End file.
